


ran so far away from myself that i bumped into you

by knucklehead



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 00:48:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13399869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knucklehead/pseuds/knucklehead
Summary: Bucky likes getting lost in other countries, likes blandning away and disappearing from his normal boring life. He just happens to run into Sam.





	ran so far away from myself that i bumped into you

Natasha sipped her coffee and looked at Bucky from across the coffee shop table.  
  
  
“So, how was your weekend?” She said with a tilted eyebrow.  
  


They had known each other for years now, from the first day of college to the last, been the one who he called during his first - and only - military tour. Had held his one hand when he came back, been the one to support him during phantom pains. She had also arguably been the most excited about his new Stark tech prosthetic arm, glad to see the friend that she recognized again. Happy. Carefree. Someone who didn’t spend all day in bed watching bad Netflix TV-shows.  
  


“You know, the usual.” He shrugged.  
  
“Where did you go this time?” She said with a completely flat and emotionless tone.  
  
“Mexico.” He shrugged.

 

Part of the reason he had joined the military in the first place was because he just wanted to go somewhere. Of course it didn’t end up panning out too well for him, but with the money he made from his boring office job he could afford some last minute trip sometimes. It was the one luxury he let himself spend money on - his apartment still had the same furniture since when he moved in years ago, and the springs in his bed dug into his back, but it was all worth it. He’d show up in a country with absolutely no money on his back, and just spend a weekend trying to figure everything out; breathe in the foreign air, try to figure out the ways things were different. He just needed to get away, had always been one of those kids who begged for road trips instead of boring hotel stays. Wanted to explore and get away at the same time, always had those things gnawing in the back of his head. He felt like he was drowning if he stayed still for too long.

  
“You should’ve invited me to go with you,” Natasha pouted. Sometimes she’d come with him, let him wake her up in the middle of the night and drag her to the airport.  
  
“I thought you were busy.” Bucky frowned  
  
“I was,” Natasha took another sip from her frappuccino, “ But you know how much I hate these boring rich people parties.”  
  
“Oh no, you get to bodyguard a celebrity and basically eat truffles on a daily basis. You life really sucks.” Bucky deadpanned.  
  
“Shut up,” Natasha said with a smug grin.  
  


Bucky’s week passed like it used to. He worked, he slept, he ate. Loop that for five days and his day life is pretty much complete. He booked his flight before he’d even gotten off work, and was at the airport faster than he thought he would be. A 7 hour flight, and he was in Paris, city of love and expensive hotels. He found the only cheapish place to stay in the entire city, that was still somewhat close to the city. A fifteen minute train ride, and he was smack in the middle. His body had gotten used to acclimating to different time zones, and Bucky was way too stubborn to miss out on a second by getting stuck on American time.

  
He was in a coffee shop - because apparently that was where he spent all of his time while not working - eating some overpriced pastry and a cup of coffee, taking the moment in hand to people watch. The café was crowded with tourists; baristas handling the stress like pros, probably used with people ordering in scraggly french by now.  
  
“Can I sit here?” A man asked Bucky, causing him to snap his neck to look at the guy. He sat down before Bucky even responded.  
  
“Yeah, I guess.” Bucky mumbled. The man in front of him had excited eyes and a crooked smile, like he was happy about sitting next to the slightly homeless looking guy.  
  
“I’m Sam,” He said, holding out a hand for Bucky to shake. Bucky just stared at the stranger who had the balls to come up to the guy with a metal arm, the guy who the other guests had strayed away from, leaving his four seat table empty.  
  
“I’m Bucky.” Bucky said when he’d shaken himself out of staring, and by then Sam had already lowered his hand.  
  
“Are you going to kill me if I talk to you?” Sam asked with a raised eyebrow, and Bucky shook his head.  
  
“I’ve heard I got that murderous look permanently stuck on my face, but no. Probably not.” Bucky shrugged. He took a bite out of his palmier, and Sam looked around the room.  
  
“Can I ask what brought you here?” Sam asked,  
  
“Why are you talking to me?” Bucky said, and then realized it sounded a bit too aggressive, when Sam widened his eyes. “Not that I really mind, but do you usually just walk up to strangers and strike up conversations?”  
  
“Not really.” Sam shrugged. “But you looked interesting.” Bucky huffed.  
  
“Thanks.” They were silent for a few moments after that. Bucky continued his people watching, spotting parents looking annoyed and kids crying or mushing food into their faces. The baristas who looked more done by the second, the boy who served Bucky kept looking at the watch probably doing the math of when his shift was over.  
  
“Military?” Sam then asked, nodding at Bucky’s arm.  
  
“Yeah.” Bucky said in a quiet voice. “Got shot in the brachial and had to amputate it.”  
  
“Really? Can’t they fix that?”  
  
“Yepp.” Bucky replied.  
  
“Oh shit,” Sam swore. “That fucking sucks.”  
  
“Pretty much.”

  
“You got a pretty sweet arm out of it though; what is that? Stark tech?” Sam frowned and looked at Bucky’s arm. The metal was shining and causing little reflections to shine on the café ceiling, making Bucky instantly regret his window spot.  
  
“Stark owed my friend a favour,” Bucky shrugged. “Plus, he was damn excited to make it.”  
  
“Huh,”

 

Sam kept talking to Bucky for some reason, asking questions that eventually led Bucky to actually join the conversation he was technically already a part of. There was something exciting about talking to Sam. This was what he liked most about traveling - getting to see how strangers interacted with the world around him, seeing people go on with their lives and tourists who pointed and tried taking Instagram photos of the country. Sam had served in the military too, lost his friend during a mission. He was now worked with veterans, trying to help them heal from their own experiences. He lived in Washington, and it made Bucky’s skin crawl - he already had his next trip planned.

“Have you ever been on the Eiffel tower?” Sam asked when the sky started to darken. They’d been in the café for hours by now, and Bucky wasn’t entirely sure if he should regret wasting most of a day on a stranger.  
  
“This ain’t my first time in Paris,” Bucky huffed.  
  
“Really?” Sam said with raised eyebrows, “You got family here or something?”  
  
‘“No, I just like…I like getting away.” Bucky admitted, scratching at a spot on the table.  
  
“Yeah.” Sam said, “I feel that.”  
  
“Have you been?” Bucky asked,and Sam looked confused. “To the tower?”  
  
“Never,” Sam said with a small smile. “Wanna go with me?”  
  


A ten minute queue and a fifteen minute walk up the steps, and they were on the second level, leaning against the railing with the breathtaking view of the city in front of them.  
  
“This is pretty cool,” Sam said, and Bucky hummed in agreement. “It’s more amazing that I thought.”  
  
“Yeah.” Bucky said. “I don’t think I’ll get tired of this in a long time.” The sun was due to set within the hour, and most of the streetlights had already been turned on, the windows of the buildings glowing from lamps inside. Bucky could hear children laughing behind him, and saw Sam smile at the noise.  
  
“How many proposals do you think happen here per week?” Bucky asked him out of nowhere.  
  
“Oh, so many.” Sam said with confidence. “With the view and everything, who could say no?”  
  
“That’s true.” Bucky murmured. And then Sam kissed him. He still had one hand on the railing, and the other on Bucky’s chin, lifting his head to get a better angle. Bucky didn’t hesitate before kissing him back, quickly letting go of the railing to hold Sam closer. They pulled away to take a moment to breathe, and to meet eyes with an old lady who looked at them in horror, and Bucky couldn’t help but to laugh.

  
Sam kept his hand on Bucky’s shoulder on the train. Just a casual touch, but it felt like it was burning right through Bucky’s skin, right down to the bone. Bucky was always a sucker for a good mystery and a one-time fling in a country, so this shouldn’t be any different. Shouldn’t. But - cliché as it is - it felt like Sam was different somehow. Maybe they just clicked like that.  
  
“Why did you talk to me in the café?” Bucky asked, because it had been on his mind for most of the day. Sam could’ve just sat down in silence, drink his tea and be done with the day.  
  
“I thought you were interesting. And I liked your face - still do.” Sam smiled. “I’m more surprised that you didn’t just tell me to fuck off and then leave, because you look exactly like the type of person who would do that.”  
  
“Thanks,” Bucky scoffed, and then the train stopped.  
  


Sam followed Bucky closely as they tried tracking down Bucky’s hotel. In the dark it was a little bit more difficult to find it than it had been during the day, but eventually they got there.  
  
“Wow,” Sam said when Bucky opened his room. It wasn’t the nicest of rooms because a cheap hotel only did so much.  
  
“Yepp.” Bucky agreed, because it was a mess. Then he turned to kiss Sam again, because it was fucking addicting.  
  


  
The bed was uncomfortable, but they didn’t care.  
  


* * *

 

There was sunlight in Bucky’s face and a warm body pressed against him, and he didn’t want to change that moment. There was some muffled noise outside the window, morning people who were already exploring the country and talking to each other. Laughter and cheerful conversations, the engine of cars that were driving by. For once, Bucky just wanted to stay put. Sam stirred behind him though, started yawning like it was the first time he had ever slept. He slowly pulled away his arm from where it was slung over Bucky’s shoulder, let his fingers rest at the scar tissue for a moment. It was a raised and in some ugly pinky shade, and there was no way to not draw attention to it. Bucky wiggled around until he could be face to face with Sam.  
  
“Good morning,” He said, almost as a whisper.  
  
“Good morning.” Sam replied, and pressed his lips against Bucky’s forehead. He then rested his head on his arm, looking at Bucky like he was something amazing. “I have a plane to catch today.”  
  
“Oh,”  
  
“Really wish I didn’t. Really wish I could stay here for the rest of the weekend.”  
  
“Me too,” Bucky murmured, “Bed springs digging into my back and all,” and Sam snickered.

   
  
They spent their last hours together walking around in Paris, started off by diving into the same café as the previous day for breakfast - which consisted of coffee and sugar, pretty much. They talked, and talked and talked, and Bucky thought his throat would’ve gone sore by then, but it was too easy to talk; Sam was energetic, kept the conversation going even if Bucky went silent for a few seconds. He smiled when Bucky said something funny, always looked interested in what Bucky had to say.  
Bucky went with Sam to the airport. Kissed him goodbye like one of those people he’d swore to never become. He took a cab to the hotel, and when he pulled out his phone from his pocket to check for messages from Natasha he realized that he’d never gotten Sam’s number. He spent the rest of the car ride cursing himself out internally.

   
“So,” Natasha said, sipping at an espresso. Bucky swore she changed her taste in coffee faster than anyone he had ever met. She had a raised eyebrow when she talked. “One week since Paris.”  
  
“Yepp.” Bucky said, drank some slow mouthfuls of his own coffee. It was way too sweet and felt like it was melting away his teeth.  
  
“One week since this ‘Sam’” Natasha said and mocked Bucky’s voice, as if he was some princess speaking dreamily about some boy. Bucky just sort of half nodded, half shrugged. “When does your plane for Washington leave?”  
  
“On Friday. I got a ticket for you too, I assumed you’d want to come with to mock me.” Bucky said, and Natasha grinned.  
  
“You know me so well,”  
  
   
Bucky and Natasha got off the plane, and walked around in the state rather than rush to find somewhere to stay.  
  
“So, do you have a plan?” Natasha asked, “Do you know where he lives, like, a bit more specific than just a state?”  
  
“I have nothing.” Bucky shrugged. He wanted to run into Sam - it was most of the reason he was there in the first place - but he didn’t mind just getting to know Sam’s place. The streets he walked, and the views he saw. Natasha had called him a stalked when he told her that.  
  
“You’re shit at planning,” Natasha sighed.

 

Through the magic of phone apps, they found a place to stay for the night. Bucky got to sleep on an unusually comfortable bed with Natasha next to him. She told him about work - the stories about Tony Stark started to seem more and more impossible, but Bucky knew better than to not believe her. After all, Stark had actually mastered human flight. If Tony and Natasha were to ever team up, they could probably take over the world.  
  
“Why do you like him?” Natasha asked Bucky. She had finally put her phone down, finished going over her email folder - which meant ‘deleting everything’.  
  
“I don’t know.” Bucky shrugged in the bed. “He’s interesting. Funny.” Natasha hummed. “I wanna get to know him more though. Feels like we didn’t have enough time.”  
  
“Can’t believe Paris managed to be a relationship cock-block.” Natasha murmured.  
  
“Yeah, that’s not exactly what it’s known for,” Bucky said and smiled.

 

Bucky went to visit the Washington Monument while Natasha said she had some some ‘unfinished business’, and Bucky certainly didn’t want to know about any of that. Bucky walked along the waters, saw the occasional jogger pass him by. The sun was out today, and the air was warm. Warm enough for Bucky to regret wearing a long sleeved shirt, and not bringing a hair tie. He looked up at the monument, and then he was tackled to the ground and was left staring into dirt.  
  
“I’m so sorry, man.” A familiar voice told him, and Bucky was met with Sam’s shocked face when he finally got back on his feet. “Bucky?”  
  
“Yeah.” Bucky said and tried fluffing away some invisible dust from his shoulder.  
  
“Holy shit,” Sam exclaimed before wrapping his arms around Bucky. “What brings you here?”  
  
“You made Washington seem so interesting,” Bucky smiled. “And you never gave me your number.”  
  
“Now I know why you never called,” Sam said and groaned. Bucky tried to keep his eyes focused on Sam’s face rather than his body - on Sam’s tank-top and shorts clad body, misted with sweat from the run he had clearly been on. Muscles that Bucky had seen, had touched, before but this wasn’t the right situation to whip out a semi. Bucky just smiled.  
  
“I tried sending smoke signals, but you know. It only really set off the smoke alarm.” Sam laughed,  
  
“Do you wanna go get lunch or something?” Sam asked, patting Bucky on the shoulder, and he smiled, and something clicked in Bucky. The gears in his head shifted, and thoughts of disappearing went away. He’d found home.


End file.
